


Keeper of the Lake

by MroseD



Series: A Wandering Immortal [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2019-09-26 02:36:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17133452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MroseD/pseuds/MroseD
Summary: As Hagrid is bringing Harry his Hogwarts acceptance letter, he meets a rather strange man next to the lake





	Keeper of the Lake

The sky was darkening fast, and the first rain was falling from the rolling storm clouds. A large man hurried over to the lakeside, most of his face obscured by a bushy black beard and hair to match. Where was that cabin he was supposed to find again? The man pulled a piece of parchment paper out of his pocket, only to groan in dismay as the raindrops smeared the ink. Well, he thought, At least I've got the right lake. He briefly considered using his umbrella to keep the rain off of himself- but the umbrella was much too small to provide cover for all of him. And besides- it was much too precious to be actually used as an umbrella. So, he trudged on through the rain, and grumbled to himself about how it shouldn't even be dark yet.

Eventually, he stumbled upon a cabin tucked away right next to the lake, and though the man couldn't quite tell exactly what it was about the cabin, he could practically feel the magic radiating off of the place. He stood there for a moment, contemplating with himself- and decided that this had to be the place the headmaster had sent him. Before heading towards the place, the large man patted a few of his pockets- making sure that the items he carried were still safe inside. The first one- a letter- was safely tucked away from the rain, and the second- a rather largish box with a special something inside, was safe as well. And, with a smile, he noted that it was still safe and not squished- much as he had feared.

A few quick strides brought the man to the door, and with a deep breath, he prepared himself to enter. He pounded on the door, and upon not receiving any sort of answer- pounded again. This time, the door swung open- and the man stepped inside. His eyes were just as stormy as the weather brewing outside, and his immense frame filled the doorway.

However, when the expected screams of frightened muggles didn't blast his ears- the man blinked the rain out of his eyes- only to stare, flabbergasted, at the sight before him. This was not the run down little shack he had expected. And as far as he could see, there was no muggle family and one special young wizard hiding away. In fact, as far as he could tell, there wasn't a single soul in the place.

He walked inside, shutting the door behind him, and explored the room a bit, hoping to find some sort of evidence that someone lived here. There were pictures on the walls- a mix of muggle photos and enchanted paintings, although, for some reason, one painting in particular stuck out to the man. It was a landscape of a castle- a whole town in fact- complete with people in the streets and crimson flags rippling atop towers. A further inspection of the room revealed a comfy living space- complete with an empty fire place and floor to ceiling bookshelves. Each shelf was overflowing with books, and try though he might, the man couldn't find a rhyme or reason to its organization. Books lay on every surface- and as he flipped through a few of the titles, he saw that there were spell books mixed in with something called- Calculus and Physics. What on earth was that?

The large man suppressed a groan of frustration as he regarded the room. Had he gotten it wrong? Desperately, the man pulled the parchment out of his pocket again, and brought it close to his face, squinting at the running ink. A loud whistle pierced the silence, and the man nearly jumped- only to see that it was a kettle whistling in the kitchenette. Well, at least he knew that someone lived here- and that someone must have been close by. With this knowledge, He grew a bit sheepish, and made his way back towards the door, carefully stepping over piles of books as he did so.

And then, all of a sudden, the door flew open- the storm outside was gathering in intensity, the wind whipping inside the small abode and continually re-banging the door shut against the wall. A new figure stood in the doorway, dressed in robes whipping in the wind, with a long white beard that did the same, and blue eyes about as stormy as the weather outside. He held a staff in hand, and he raised it in the air just as a bolt of lightning flashed across the black sky. The figure was illuminated for a moment, the awe-inspiring stance captured as a snapshot by the bright bolt, and as the light faded away, he brought the staff down against the floor, his eyes flashing a luminescent gold as he did so. A loud BANG echoed across the room, and the larger man took a step backwards, tripping over a pile of books as he did so, and fell to the flood with a loud THUD.

With a wince- the taller man had felt the box he had been so careful about earlier squish as it came in contact with the floor - the man tried to get back up to his feet, only to find himself bound to the floor by some invisible force. The old man came over, his eyes still a bright gold, and loomed over the larger man. For a split second, pure fear ran through the large man's spine, only to be faced with utter confusion as the anger faded from the other man's eyes, replaced with amusement. He laughed, and his eyes flashed brighter for a moment as the larger man felt the bonds that held him fade. He got to his feet as quickly as a man of his size could- and was reaching for the umbrella at his side, when the older man addressed him.

"Oh no- that won't be necessary Hagrid. I'm sorry for that dreadful first impression- you see, I thought you were someone else." Merriment twinkled in his eyes. "You don't get to be as old as I am without being cautious- and with a little magic of course." He turned away from the fumbling half-giant to address the still whistling kettle. A flick of his hand shut the door, and with another, the kettle rose from its place on the stove, the fire turned itself off, and the utensils started preparing the tea. "Would you like some? I think you still have a little longer before Harry needs to get that letter," He said as he turned to Hagrid once more.

"How d'ye now all that?" He sputtered.

"Oh don't worry! There's not much I don't know these days- oh! And may I recommend to keep a close eye on Fluffy this year?" The old man's last comment sent Hagrid fuming again.

"Now wait just a minute! That's some business that is strictly between Professor Dumbledore an' –"

"Nicholas Flamelle, I am quite aware. Don't worry Hagrid, I don't have much use for the stone even if I wanted to acquire it. It was simply a recommendation. Can't be too careful with those sorts of things."

"Jes' who are ye anyways?" Hagrid questioned, his gravelly voice rising in anger.

"Oh- I'm just an old coot who lives by the lake. According to the neighboring town that is. Crazy old Mr. Emrys- the man who talks to the lake." By the look Hagrid was giving the old man, he could have been speaking some sort of lost language for all Hagrid understood. Seeing this, the old man, 'Mr. Emrys' stopped talking and chuckled to himself. "Sorry. Well, you can call me…." He trailed off in thought, and then, his eyes sparkled with mischief. "Dragoon- pleased to meet you Rubeus Hagrid." Hagrid continued looking at the man as though he had sprouted a second head. "No? Well, Emrys will do then."

"What kind o' name is Emrys- or Dragoon for that matter?" Hagrid questioned.

"Druidic, and well, I have no idea where Dragoon comes from. It just sort of came to me one day." The old man, Emrys, smiled to himself as if enjoying some sort of personal joke.

"An' how do you know about the stone?" Hagrid continued in his questioning.

"You don't get to be thirteen hundred years old without learning a few things!" Emrys retorted.

"Thirteenhun- Merlin's pants! That's a long time," Hagrid spoke, his voice tinted with a touch of amazement and a little more than a bit of disbelief. Emrys' face twisted in some sort of expression that Hagrid couldn't quite make out- some sort of mixture between amusement and discomfort.

"Yes well, need to wait for the 'Once and Future King' and all that….which reminds me- isn't young Harry waiting for you?" He glanced up at a clock hanging on the wall, and nodded. "Yes- I think you should be off to Mr. Potter now- sorry we didn't have time for tea!"

Hagrid followed dumbly as he was lead to the door, and was about to start questioning the man again when the door opened, and he was pushed out. He stood sputtering in the rain for a few moments, before turning around on and raising his fist to rap on the door once more. What were a few more minutes? He had to get some answers from this man- only to find that the door, and the house it was attached to, had disappeared. Hagrid stood there in the rain, mouth hanging open, before shaking his head.

The half-giant trudged back the way he had come, heading towards a dock he had seen earlier, grumbling to himself. He reached into one of his many pockets, drew out the watch, and glanced at it before exclaiming, "Merlin's Beard! I'm almost late!" As the large man now started running, he almost thought he could hear a chuckle coming from behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally uploaded to Fanfiction.net, but since I'm more present here, I thought to transfer it over. It has been unedited since I wrote it in 2015.


End file.
